


Sex Kitten

by BewareTheIdes15



Series: Animutant!AU [3]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, Mutant, Recreational Drug Use, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-11
Updated: 2011-08-11
Packaged: 2017-10-22 12:08:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BewareTheIdes15/pseuds/BewareTheIdes15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The real problem is, catnip isn’t  exactly hard to procure. Which is how Jared ends up standing in front of the bathroom mirror staring into his own eyes at the horror of having just rubbed a friggin’ cat toy in places the poor innocent plush-mousey was never meant to go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex Kitten

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt by danaid_luv on LJ with much help from gedry

Jared will never admit it, not til the day he dies, but ultimately, it’s Chad’s idea. Chad’s the one who sends him the YouTube videos of cats losing their shit over catnip and suggests that Jared try it with his boyfriend. Naturally, Jared reminds Chad that he’s a dick and that Jensen is not a cat. He then promptly becomes obsessed with the idea.

It’s not that Jared doesn’t get that Jensen’s not a cat; he is very intimately familiar with all of the ways that Jensen is extremely human – and assuming he did a good job clearing ‘cat penis’ out of his internet search history, he can take the shame of how much he knows about the differences between human and feline anatomy to his grave. It isn’t even that he wants Jensen to be more catlike or that he thinks all of the issues Jensen has to deal with are funny or something, it’s just that, once the idea is in his head, he can’t get it out.

See, Jensen is a sexy beast - pun fucking intended - even without all of his handy-dandy Plus features. Jared's seen just about every permutation of him by now - Red Carpet Jensen and Lazy Sunday Jensen and Naked Fun-time Jensen and everything in between - and they're all good, all do things to Jared like invisible fingers touching him in very dirty places just from looking at him. But he can't pretend he doesn't have an extra-special kink for Kitty Jensen - which he's not supposed to call him on pain of castration, but still does sometimes, just to himself - and everything that goes with it. The idea of Jensen at his most kittenish, all blissed-out and turned-on, a little bit out of control... yeah, there's no way for him to not want it.

Maybe that would be okay, if fantasy was where it ended.

The real problem is, catnip isn’t some illicit substance. It’s not exactly hard to procure, and once he’s got it, it’s even easier to go ahead and use it. Which is how he ends up standing in front of the bathroom mirror staring into his own eyes at the horror of having just rubbed a friggin’ cat toy in places the poor innocent plush-mousey was never meant to go. Unfortunately they’re due on set which also means that he doesn’t have time to take another shower and forget this whole fucking mess, even if he _could_ come up with an excuse for why he needs to fuck his hair and makeup all to hell and rinse off for the second time this morning.

Jensen totally notices too, though thankfully not quite as acutely as the cats in the videos. He just kind of sniffs at Jared as they pile into one of the Impalas for a light check and gives him a thoughtful look.

"New cologne?" he asks, leaning in - a little to close to come off as platonic - for another quick whiff, visibly puzzling over the scent.

"Yeah. It's, um, organic something or other. Thought I'd give it a shot." His voice sounds strained to his own ears and Jensen knows him way too well not pick up on it but the guest director's coming over to talk to them about character and motivation like they haven't been playing the Winchesters for years now and for the first time all week, Jared is grateful that the guy is a dipshit.

Somewhere around the sixth take he starts to wonder what the fans are going to say about Dean's sudden need to constantly scent the air for his brother.

The day is hectic, the scenes they're trying to get through allowing Jared to mostly duck out of Jensen's general area when they're not in character, but that doesn't mean he's doing any better job at hiding that he's up to something. Jensen keeps giving him this assessing look that - PC or not - is so fucking feline it's scary and every single time Jared feels like the invisible traces of catnip smeared all over his skin are glowing red.

He's staring down into the mauled depths of macaroni salad on his lunch plate, pointedly not thinking about anything at all catnip-related as if Jensen will somehow overhear it, when his boyfriend finally catches up to him.

Jensen's plate smacks down on the table next to his own, a "What's going on, Jay?" growled at him before Jensen's even in his chair. And it's completely unfair of him to use the growl right now - he knows exactly what that shit does to Jared.

"Nothing," Jared shrugs back, an instant and pathetic failure at sounding even moderately convincing. There's no justice in the world that he's a professional actor and still can't lie to his boyfriend.

Before he gets a chance to do anything to strengthen his default pre-pubescent argument, he's being wrenched halfway out of his chair by the collar of Sam's shirt, Jensen leaning in to press his nose up against Jared's skin.

"Who is it?" is a legitimate snarl against the delicate skin of his throat, flowed up with a quick lick and bite that gets a surprised yelp out of him. That's definitely going to be red for at least the next couple of hours - right along with Jared's face because everybody around the craft services area is staring now. "Not perfume, gotta be one of the guys. I know that smell. Who is it, Jared? Whose ass do I gotta kick?"

Jared doesn't actually get what's going on until several seconds too late, long enough that Jensen gets fed up and nips him again, rooting his face against Jared's skin and sniffing so hard Jared's pretty sure he's going to hurt himself. Then it keys in, what Jensen means, what Jensen _thinks_ and Jared's heart plummets into his stomach.

"No, Jen, it's not-"

Evidently that isn't the answer Jensen wants to hear because he lets go of Jared's shirt to palm the front of his jeans instead, hand rough and lewdly obvious on Jared's junk right here in front of half the crew.

Holy fuck! Okay, it's not like their relationship is exactly a secret, not around here anyway, but it's not usually something they flaunt either and Jensen is always the one pushing for discretion. It's like the sky suddenly turned pink and the world started to spin backwards.

"Jensen, I swear, it's not anybody else," he does his best to whisper but the more-than-almost-painful rub of Jensen's hand keeps making it come out shocky-loud, body still responding shamefully easy even when it's pretty clear Jensen is pissed enough to not really care if Jared's having a good time. "It's catnip."

Jensen freezes solid, all except for his hand which tenses, forcing a whimper out of Jared.

Since he's actually got Jensen listening to him - he has a feeling it may be a while before Jensen wants to hear much from him after this - he takes advantage of the moment to nervously blurt, "It was just supposed to be kind of a joke and then I realized it was stupid but I didn't have time to wash it off and I never thought that you would think... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'll never do it again. Please, Jen, I'm so sorry."

Then Jensen's standing up and either he forgot that he was making a fist around Jared's junk - which seems kind of improbable - or he just doesn't give a shit that Jared has to stumble to his feet too, up on tiptoes to keep all of his goodies in the appropriate locale. The sharp white pain when Jensen clenches his fingers again effectively removes all doubt about the forgetting thing.

"You're sorry?" Jensen asks like a dare and Jared can only nod his head ardently in response.

Quick as that, Jensen lets him go, hand jerking away like just touching Jared disgusts him. Jared wonders if it would make him look any more pathetic right now if he threw up over that thought or if letting his co-star drag him around by the balls has capped off his capacity for public humiliation.

Jensen stomps off toward his trailer, fuming, not once looking back.

***

The rest of the day's shoot goes as smooth as a gravel road seeded with thumbtacks, not that it’s exactly a surprise. Luckily the tension between he and Jared works for Sam and Dean’s current dynamic, but that doesn’t do much to make Jensen feel better about the whole situation as he climbs into the SUV alone – sent home early like a sixth grade delinquent.

What the hell had Jared been thinking pulling some crap like that! Catnip? Really, _catnip_? The last person who tried to trick Jensen into getting high off of catnip was his big brother. When he was _eight_! Doesn’t that just say worlds about Jared’s maturity level.

And, alright, Jensen gets it a little bit. There was that night after the season one wrap party when Jared had gotten pretty baked on some weed that a friend of a friend of somebody or other had showed up with and Jensen had to admit, it had been damn entertaining to watch. If he’d been sleeping with Jared at the time, it probably would have been a hell of a night. So sure, the impulse made sense, but to try and what? Drug Jensen against his will? Entice him with some sort of narcotic aphrodisiac? A _cat_ narcotic no less? And, cherry on top, to do it _at work_! How could Jared have possibly thought that would be funny? How could he have possibly thought that having his Plusness pointed out – fucking _flaunted_ – in front of the entire crew would be anything but humiliating for Jensen?

It _is_ humiliating too; he saw the looks, the barely disguised contempt because now they all think that Jensen’s some kind of abusive asshole who pushes Jared around. They haven’t got a clue what happened, no idea that Jensen was already a little out of his head from the fucking catnip fumes he was trapped in the Impala with all morning before the jealousy even kicked in, wouldn’t dream that poor innocent Jared was at least partially at fault.

 _Of course_ they’re all going to side with Jay; he's funny and peppy and everyone's best friend. Doesn't get all surly and antisocial like that _other_ star of the show - because, you know, people who grow up thinking 'freak' is actually a part of their name they get called it so much are usually so well adjusted. No, Jared's perfect, Jared can do no wrong. Everybody _loves_ Jay, everybody… everybody _wants_ Jay.

And that’s the real problem isn’t it? There’s not a person on this set that wouldn't snap Jared up in a heartbeat. Not one person that Jared wouldn’t be better off with than Jensen – with the possible exclusion of Bob, because some things are simply too disturbing to consider – and that’s the part that’s messing with his head more than any little herb.

Sitting there this morning smelling Jared with that _something_ overlaid on top of his scent, something familiar but foreign – something not a part of ‘us’ – had been the instantaneous, irrational confirmation of everything he’d ever feared about being with Jared; everything every other relationship he’d had had proven to be the truth.

A Plus dating a Plus was one thing, there were always issues, but at least they were both in the same boat, weren’t foisting off their ‘other’ status on somebody who hadn’t lived it already. A Plus dating a Non- was a whole different ballgame and eventually, inevitably, the Non- would realize that it wasn’t worth the time and emotional energy it took to put up with all of the extra baggage just to be with someone who, at the end of the day, is never going to be normal, is never going to be cured.

It’s unfair to Jared to think like that, because if Jensen’s ever met a single person who genuinely doesn’t give a shit about the gene issue, it’s Jay, but Jensen’s had his heart broken a lot over Non-s and none of them have ever meant even half as much to him as Jared does. Jared’s not just some pretty-faced charmer he picked up along the way, he’s the best friend Jensen’s ever had and Jensen’s not really sure what he’d do if he lost Jared; how he’d be able to go back to the life he used to have, closed off and held at a distance. That’s a terrifying thing, knowing someone has that kind of power over him, and maybe worse because of how much he inherently trusts Jared with it. But with Jared he’s never been able to help that trust, giving too much of himself away too fast, too easy, before they really even knew each other.

For no good reason at all, he’s always had this faith that Jared wouldn’t hurt him – like they don’t have enough codependent character bleed as it is - and a sick, twisted part of him has been waiting all along for Jared to prove what an idiot he's been for it. Then this morning when he’d thought it had finally happened, that Jared had given up on him and chosen someone else, someone better…

But now it doesn’t matter because Jensen’s wrecked it all anyway. After all of his pathetic, mincing worry, he’s the villain of this piece, the possessive dick who lost his shit over some imagined betrayal, and there’s nothing he can do about it. Nothing he can do to make up for the fact that he acted like a controlling bastard, manhandling Jared in front of everyone. Nothing to stop the one thing in his life that’s redefined want and need from justifiably walking out on him over some goddamn catnip.

Unless…

The thought occurs to Jensen as the blacktop rumbles away beneath him, Clif tapping his fingers against the steering wheel in time to whatever song’s in his head. It’s a cheap move - so, so cheap – but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t work. The way to Jared's heart has consistently been through his pants and if it would keep Jared interested a little while longer, it would be worth whatever degradation could potentially come along with it. It’s not like he’d have the capacity to be embarrassed at the time anyway.

It could work. It has to work. He can’t lose Jared over something this stupid. Can’t give up his m-

Can’t. Just can’t. Won’t.

Jensen leans up between the seats and asks Clif if they can make a quick stop. He has some shopping to do.

***

When Jared drags in it’s only a little after seven, still an early day by their standards. It had been pretty fucking miserable all the way around this afternoon, between the people who were brave enough to actually come up and ask him what happened and the ones who just stared with open curiosity, or worse, pity. He’s not exactly sure how well his story about pulling a prank on Jensen went over, there were still quite a few speculative glances flying when the director finally gave up trying to get anyone to focus for the day – and his one remaining star to stop oscillating wildly between anxious and pissed - and called it quits.

The house is dark and silent, the dogs padding over to give him a warm greeting but quickly retreating back to curl up on their pillows. Evidently Jensen’s been here at least, to feed them and let them out. His gut clenches at the idea that Jensen might not be here anymore – have gone to a hotel for the night or something because he’s too mad to be around Jared right now – and he takes a moment to enjoy the catharsis of banging his forehead against the wall repeatedly before he finally gives in and wanders down the hall toward Jensen’s room to find out the answer.

It’s empty, just as he feared, and he’s about two seconds away from abandoning all pretense of not being a moping preteen girl and curling up in Jensen’s bed like the pining loser he is when he hears his costar’s voice distantly calling his name.

If anyone was around to see, Jared’s not really sure that he could work up the decency to be ashamed of how fast he rockets down the hall toward the sound of Jensen’s voice. Once upon a time, before he was with Jensen, he was in full possession of some manly pride.

Yeah, it was totally overrated anyway.

The sight that greets him when he pushes his own bedroom door open only affirms that fact – pride, what’s pride? - not to mention shutting down most of his higher brain functions. In his defense, Jensen is lying in the middle of his bed, naked, spread, like the kind of wet dream he hasn’t had in months because he’s been getting fucked too regularly to get backed up. Anyone who can hold onto their faculties with Jensen laid out for them like that – giving them that lazy, half-lidded, ‘I’m so happy to see you, please come dick me’ look – is clearly insane.

During most of the time since he last saw Jensen, Jared’s devoted a large portion of his energy to coming up with an eloquent, sincere apology to start them off on a mature conversation about things like privacy and boundaries and setting up some rules so they don’t end up shaming themselves or each other in public again. All of that is gone. Just gone. Just fucking brain-wiped. _God_.

“Jen?” he asks tentatively because if this were a movie, this is the part where Jensen would lull him into a false sense of security in order to spring the trap of his horrible murder-machine at the moment when Jared is at his weakest. Not that he thinks Jensen could possibly be that mad – or homicidal – but, you know, better safe than sorry.

“Hey,” Jensen smirks back, low and smoky and sexy as all fuck. He props himself up on one elbow, legs splaying a little wider to emphasize the dark jut of his dick leaking against his stomach, the shadow just below the swell of his sac where his fingers linger for a moment, not so much touching himself as being a vicious, irredeemable cocktease.

“W-what are you doing?” Against what should probably be called his better judgment but right now seems more like ‘that voice in his head that needs to fuck off’, Jared finds himself standing next to the bed. Jensen’s gorgeous like this – always – skin just a little bit pink like he’s been working himself up, waiting for Jared to get home and do filthy things to him, lips even pinker like he’s been biting them, sprawled relaxed and wicked, not a care in the world. All around him, sticking to his skin in places where there’s a thin sheen of sweat, the sheets are flecked with what looks like dirt or maybe little leaves or-

Oh.

The catnip – and after all the shit they've been through today, it’s got to be catnip – pools in the depression that Jensen’s knees make as he pushes himself up, kneeling close enough to the edge of the bed to loop his arms around Jared’s neck and urge him even nearer. It’s not quite dark enough for his eyes to have gone reflective so instead they just look blown – glassy-wet, wide-pupilled. High as a fucking kite. Jared only has a moment to notice it before they’re too close to focus on as Jensen leans in to nibble kisses to the corner of his mouth, up his jaw.

“What you wanted,” he murmurs, leaning in closer so that Jared’s t-shirt clings to the sticky head of his cock. He ducks down to press his lips against Jared’s Adam’s apple and purr, sending rough vibrations out through Jared’s body, almost stealing his breath.

“This wasn’t-“ however that was going to end, Jared loses it on a bitten off moan. Jensen nips at his collarbone, scrapes his thumb over a cotton-covered nipple and giggles – honest to fuck, giggles. “It was just a joke,” he tries lamely.

This was supposed to be an important moment for growth in their relationship: their first fight. They were supposed to face this rocky patch together and discuss their issues and use it to make themselves stronger as a couple. Jensen seducing their way out of it with the promise of drug-fuelled happy-kitty sex is not anywhere in the stable-relationship handbook.

Jensen also, apparently, doesn’t give a shit about that because he’s too wrapped up ‘mm-hmm’ing as he licks at the hollow of Jared’s throat and slides his fingertips under the band of Jared’s boxers . Despite his best intentions, Jared is raging hard.

“Jensen,” comes out a gasp as a firm hand encircles his uncontrollable hard-on, stroking just the way he likes. There was really going to be some kind of admonishment or something involved in that. Someday soon they’re going to have a really thorough discussion about sexual blackmail. And how increasingly in favor of it Jared is whenever they have a disagreement.

Jensen gives a little tug and Jared doesn’t have any real choice but to go with it unless he wants his dick to become detachable, getting up onto the bed and letting Jensen roll him under. Not like he’d been doing such a great job holding the moral high ground anyway.

The kiss Jensen presses to his lips is sloppy, mixed up with that lazy grin he's still wearing and thrown off by the shameless way he’s rubbing every spare inch of his body up against Jared. He has it on good authority that humans can’t get high off of catnip, but right now he’s not so sure.

Prickly bits of herb get crushed under his back, sticking to his skin too when Jensen uncoordinatedly strips him, tossing his shirt halfway across the room while his jeans and boxers only make it to his calves before Jensen decides painting Jared’s dick with his tongue sounds like more fun. Jared can’t exactly disagree. He kicks his pants off the rest of the way and then he can’t do anything but hang on to the sheets and the back of Jensen’s neck as his boyfriend nips and sucks a scattershot patter of bruises all over his groin.

Maybe Jensen came by this whole marking fetish a little more naturally than Jared did, but he can’t deny that since they’ve been together it’s gotten under his skin – literally – and seriously fucked up his head. He’s never actually told Jensen about the few times he’s brought himself off with fingers pressing into the dark marks and an easy grip on his dick but he’s pretty sure Jensen knows it gets to him anyway. Hell, everything about Jensen gets to him; up to and including his pathological need to use sex as a problem solving tool. It’s kind of fucking ridiculous, actually, how far gone he is over his best friend.

Steady, insane, almost-soothing tremors are melting through his belly as Jensen sucks another abused circle next to his navel; a loud, rough purr, nearly a growl, that would have him hard and aching even if it wasn’t for all the rest – goddamn Pavlovian. He reaches down to get a little relief for the constant pulse of want tightening his balls but Jensen latches onto his wrist instead, teeth nipping a warning into thin skin.

“Mine,” is a slur, Jensen’s sandpaper tongue tickling against the sensitive flesh before he lets it go, pins it at Jared’s side instead. He crawls up the length of Jared’s body to get face to face again, eyes intense and just a little bit crazed. “Right, Jay? All mine.”

He grinds down against Jared as he asks, sweat-tacky friction turning Jared’s, “Yours, baby,” into more of a mewl. This is as much of a sign of how out of it Jensen is as the way his eyelids can’t seem to settle on how much they want to droop, the hitchy way he’s breathing like a sneeze that never quite comes. Jensen doesn’t generally like to let on how possessive he really is, like he thinks Jared doesn’t know or will judge him for it or something. That’s part of the reason his outburst this afternoon had been so shocking – Jensen much prefers to play it like he’s above all of his baser instincts.

Jared should probably be more bothered by the whole idea than he is – he’s not a prize to be owned – and he might be, if he didn’t feel pretty much exactly the same way about Jensen. Secretly he loves that Jensen likes to hear it, gets off on having it reaffirmed over and over again that they’ve chosen each other, belong with each other. That despite his cool exterior, Jensen’s just as in over his head as Jared is.

"Everybody wants you, could have anybody." Strong fingers tangle in Jared's hair, coaxing his head back so Jensen can lick a long, rough stripe up the column of Jared's throat. He's not sure if that's supposed to be an incentive stick with Jensen or if his boyfriend really just can't help himself at the moment, needs that badly to taste his skin. It's a moot point either way.

"Don't want anyone but you," he murmurs, closer to a moan when he swivels his hips up against Jensen's, hand pressing at the small of his back to bring them into perfect alignment; hard, sticky lengths and fur-soft hair trapped between their bodies. Jensen curls in closer around him, rubbing up against every scrap of skin he can get at like he's going to start a fire with the friction.

He’s making these quiet sounds – still purring, lower now, but it’s almost overwhelmed by these new noises – tight, cut off ones that rise with the desperation his can feel singing through Jensen’s frame as he increases the tempo of his rutting. Wet roughness trails over Jared's jaw, down his neck, shoulder, collarbone, chin. The scratchy licks that bring blood closer to the surface, make every contact afterward zip brightly along Jared's nerves.

He almost doesn't catch it when Jensen mumbles, "More trouble than I'm worth," against Jared's skin, distracted by the mark Jensen's urgently suckling at the hollow of his throat. His stomach clenches with it though, a physical ache that shoots through his entire body, hangs in his chest like a burr.

Jensen makes a surprised gasp when Jared dumps him sideways, flipping over on top of him so that he's covered completely, eye to eye when he says, "Worth everything to me."

The shudder that works through Jensen seems almost painful in its intensity, his legs locking tight around Jared's, holding them together, eyes slammed shut, face turned away. Jared does the only thing he can think of, bucks against Jensen harder, churns his hips to try and make them both come as though he can force the understanding of how much Jensen means to him right into his boyfriend's flesh.

Jensen's hands scrabble at his back, little points of pain where there will probably be scratches later. His breathing is stilted, almost like sobs, pressed into the curve of Jared's neck when he holds himself that much closer, whispering soft, nonsense assurances into Jensen's ear. The space between them is slick with sweat, dotted with gritty lines of heat wherever the catnip drags sharply against their skin. He hears Jensen gasp out something that sounds like 'mate' and all of it turns scalding and slick as Jensen spills, a gut-punched moan following a second or two behind like even Jensen didn't know it was coming.

Jared worms a hand down while Jensen clings to him and strokes himself, fast and needy until he's coating their stomachs too, trembling with the jittery pleasure of it.

When Jared collapses, he does at least have the presence of mind - and muscle coordination - to roll them onto their sides, but that's about it. Jensen purrs softly against him and starts back in with the licking; tiny, efficient laps this time that Jared's trying really hard not to think of as grooming since this is already fucked beyond belief.

“You okay, baby?” he asks after a minute, though a part of him just wants to lay here and drift off to sleep, warm and kittenishly pampered. There are still things that need to be dealt with, though, and even indulging in some seriously hot fucking doesn’t make that go away, whatever Jensen might think.

Jensen hums for an answer and works his way to straightening out Jared's sideburns with his tongue. Add that to the list of shit that really shouldn't be hot, but is. He scratches through the sweat-damp silk of Jensen's hair and earns himself a louder purr right against the curl of his ear that makes his dick want to sit up and pay attention again.

"I really am sorry," he whispers, kissing Jensen's cheek. His boyfriend sighs heavily, nuzzles into Jared's hair.

"I know. Me too." Jensen’s fingertips circle Jared’s nipple over and over in what he guesses is as close to a nervous gesture as his boyfriend can get when he’s this mellowed out. It doesn’t do much to help Jared’s efforts at focusing on the serious parts of this conversation. “I get…" he stalls out, nosing at the tender skin underneath Jared's jaw when he breathes, "insecure sometimes.”

Jared's voice is a little breathy from the soft, delicious touches when he says, “Barely even looked at anybody but you in years. Wouldn’t even remember how to want anyone else,” but that doesn’t make it any less true. Sometimes it feels like his world went into solar eclipse when Jensen came into it; this tall, gorgeous, green-eyed shape blocking his view of anyone else worthy taking an interest in. He can’t really complain about it.

Almost reluctantly, Jensen pulls back, pillowing his head on Jared's bent arm. His eyes are heavy-lidded and hazy, obviously still floating on whatever chemical reaction he's having to the catnip. That doesn't keep him from looking a little bit sad, though, and a whole lot irresistible when he worries his lip between his teeth and says, "It's gonna be really awkward on set, isn't it?"

Jared can't be bothered to answer for several minutes, far too occupied kissing Jensen's pliant, willing mouth.

"Nah, I'll just tell them it's my raw, animal magnetism," he teases, "they'll understand." Jensen shoves at his shoulder ineffectually, then scoots in closer to eliminate the molecule of distance the move may have added between them. Sometime pretty soon, he has a feeling Jen’s going to have another freak out about the crew, but that’ll have to be sometime when they aren’t on a bed full of catnip because right now, Jensen just giggles again softly and doesn't seem to be able to stop. Yeah - _As. A. Kite._

"Dude, we totally have to do this again some time when we're not fighting," he points out, unable to resist digging his fingers into that ticklish spot under Jensen's ribs to turn his laugh louder.

Jensen bats at him without much strength behind it and when he rolls out on his back and stretches, long and languorously content, Jared decides it's ok if he still calls Jensen a pretty kitty sometimes, as long as it's just in his head.

He sinks his fingers into the soft, light hair around Jensen's soft cock, his boyfriend arching into it immediately. Jensen smirks at him over it, eager and just the right side of wicked.

"What were your plans for the rest of the night?"


End file.
